Perfect
by epicfrenchfry
Summary: Prussia is determined to make Valentine's Day perfect for Austria. Plotless PruAus fluff.


**Happy Valentine's Day everyone! Here's some fluffy PruAus!**

 **I do not own Hetalia.**

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The soft, rich melody of the piano played harmoniously along with the piping tone of the flute, but the two men creating the music could not have contrasted more. The flute squeaked on a high note, an unavoidable occurrence, and Austria spun on his bench to glare daggers at Prussia. Prussia returned the glare with a thick scowl.

"I haven't played in a few decades; I'll get the hang of it again soon." He grumbled defensively.

"You're the one that said today had to be perfect." Austria sniffed derisively. "I would have been perfectly content with a nice, peaceful day to myself."

"You would have just played the piano anyways." Prussia shrugged, grinning. "I'm just making it awesome."

"You're making it stressful."

Prussia whacked him gently with the flute and stood up, slinging it over his shoulder like a bayonet. "Fine. You play your totally awesome piano and I'll go make an awesome cake!" Prussia padded off to the kitchen and Austria returned to his piano with an exasperated sigh, Chopin's Fantasie Impromptu flowing steadily from his fingers dancing over the polished keys.

With this delightful background music, Prussia rooted through the cabinets in Austria's pristine kitchen. He knew Austria's favorite cake flavor was chocolate, and while browsing the internet he found a recipe for a chocolate and cream layer cake called the 'Burning Love' cake. Since he knew where Austria kept his chocolate stash, he hadn't bothered buying any, deciding just to raid Austria's cherished supply. He fetched the supplies and made the batter, grumbling over the overly-specific instructions.

Once mixed, he developed his doubts. He glanced suspiciously at the bowl of chocolatey batter. It was supposed to be thin, but wasn't that too thin? He shrugged and poured the batter into the two round pans and popped them into the oven. Deciding he'd make the cream when the cake was finished and cooling, he returned to the piano room and stood in the doorway, smiling fondly as he watched his boyfriend play his heart out.

"He sure does look happy…" He said to himself. He sat down on the floor and watched Austria for the duration of the time it took the cake to bake.

Austria had long since finished Fantasie Impromptu and had played Mozart's Requiem and the winter movement of Vivaldi's Four Seasons and was halfway through Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata when he heard a loud crash and a startled stream of curses coming from the kitchen. Standing fluidly, he ventured to the kitchen to find Prussia sprawled on the floor, face that of a broken man. In front of him, only a mere inch from being caught in his hands, was the cake. It was, or rather had been, frosted to utter perfection with a fluffy chocolate cream, but now was squashed beyond salvation.

Prussia looked up at him with crimson eyes bright with distress. "I tripped." He said sorrowfully. He looked like he was about to burst into tears at any moment, and he lowered his head again to hide his face.

Austria knelt and swept a finger through the creamy remains, tasting it. "It's delicious, Gilbert. Thank you." He smiled indulgently. Prussia lifted his head, peeking at him as though he couldn't believe what he was seeing. Austria, the man infamous for being a priss, was eating a cake off of the floor? And as Prussia watched, Austria did something even more unbelievable. It was something he'd never done before and never would again. He retrieved two forks from the silverware drawer and sat back down on the floor, handing a fork to Prussia and inserting his own into the cake. He tasted it carefully, taking note of the rich chocolate flavor and the smooth yet fluffy cream lathered in. The four layers were all cooked superbly and the cream in between the layers was no less perfect than the cream on top and around the sides. It was airy and moist, all in all a perfect cake. He had to admit, albeit a little reluctantly, that he was proud of Prussia. It was obvious who had taught Germany how to bake.

Prussia was watching his facial reactions quite intently, eager for his appraisal. Austria met his gaze with a cocked eyebrow and he offered a faint smile. Prussia's wounded pride surged back tenfold and he boasted, "Heh! My cake is so awesome it tastes good even after hitting the floor!"

"I do hope you realize that you're cleaning all of this up." Austria said casually as he took another bite of cake.

Prussia rolled his eyes, wilting again. "Yeah, yeah…" He dipped his fork into the cake and helped himself. Hm, it really did taste good. He would have to hold on to this recipe.

As delicious as it was, they soon reached a point where they didn't want to continue eating as it was in direct contact with the floor. It was then that Prussia was left to clean up his mess and Austria returned to his piano to finish Moonlight Sonata. When Prussia finished, he grabbed his flute off of the table and returned to the music room. He listened contentedly as Austria played out the rest of the piece and sat on the bench next to him, watching those slender fingers dart about nimbly on the keys.

There was a crystal vase on the piano, probably not a great place for it, but it looked beautiful with the polished black. The vase held a pretty yet simple bouquet of alpine gentians of a rich cobalt blue color and white hyacinths. Hungary had helped him select the flowers, telling him how much Austria liked them. Austria did like them, and though he had been a little apprehensive to allow Prussia to put them on his beloved grand piano, he had agreed that they did look nice there.

"Gilbert?" Austria inquired. Prussia snapped out of his reverie and gave him a goofy grin.

"Yes?"

"You've been staring into space for a while. You brought your flute, didn't you want to play?"

"Oh! Right. Any duets that you feel like playing?"

"The Flower Duet, from Lakme." Austria said at once.

Prussia grinned. He had gone, not unwillingly, to see that opera with France back in 1998 and he remembered that song. It was quite popular. Austria handed him a set of sheet music and Prussia studied it quickly, nodding to affirm that he was ready.

It was a smooth and flowing melody. Austria played the opening notes and when the flute part began, Prussia raised the silver instrument to his lips and played, his fingers expertly capturing each note. Sadly, the song was a rather short one and they played it through rather quickly.

Austria gave him an approving look when the final notes died out. "Much better."

Prussia stuck his tongue out childishly. "Since cake failed, can I make a new dessert?" He asked.

Austria considered briefly. "I would like that. And I'll make hot chocolate."

So they went back into the kitchen. Prussia gathered the ingredients to make a strawberry torte, something he knew that Austria was fond of. He was pleased to find that the strawberries Austria had in his refrigerator were large and plump, evidently quite juicy. His mouth watered as he rinsed them off but he employed his minimal self-control not to eat them before they could go on the torte.

He made the batter quickly enough, mixing it into a light and fluffy mixture before spreading it into a flan pan and popping it in the oven. He set the strawberries aside in a bowl, still wet from being washed. He turned and strolled up behind Austria as he poured the homemade hot chocolate into two mugs and topped it off with a generous dollop of whipped cream in each.

They sat together at Austria's small round table as the torte baked, each of them with a mug of Austria's Viennese hot chocolate clutched in their hands. Prussia blew on it to cool it down and sipped it. It was rich and had a good body to it, and the homemade whipped cream on top was fluffy and tasted like vanilla. He set the mug down and gazed into Austria's violet eyes. His dark brown hair was brushed into its usual gentle waves and his cowlick, nicknamed Mariazell, was in its usual elegant curl. His skin was pale, and the mole under his lip was a stark contrast.

He loved this man. He loved everything about him, from the way he brushed his naturally straight hair into those waves right down to how he would scold him ceaselessly for doing stupid things. He loved him so much. He hadn't told him, had he? He had to tell him.

"Hey, Roderich?"

"Mm?" Austria hummed, setting down his mug. Whipped cream was smeared along his upper lip and Prussia laughed, leaning forward to wipe it off with his thumb. Austria's cheeks tinted the faintest shade of pink in his embarrassment and Prussia rose up out of his chair to lean forward more, just close enough for their lips to brush in a chaste kiss.

He pulled back so he could stare deep into those dark violet eyes. "Roddy, I love you."

"I-I love you too, Gilbert."

"Happy Valentine's Day." And he went in for another kiss.

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 **Yay abrupt ending. I'll probably come back and add more later when it's not 10:46pm and my brain isn't fried.**


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